Hollywood's Not America
by BrokenAngel5683
Summary: What if a wolf's imprint was convinced she was meant for something more....something that didn't involve small town life or true love. Embry/OC. Loosely inspired by the song Hollywood is Not America.
1. The Proposal

My mouth hung open in shock. It was taking time for my brain to really compute this. My werewolf boyfriend was in front of me. On one knee. A velvet box in his hand. A ring in it that I was sure that he couldn't afford. He'd just spouted out something about being his sun and his moon, the center of his Earth, his imprint. A word that we had sworn we would never mention again after his first use of it. We would simply just be. No definitions. I guess I had taken the whole thing more casually than he had.

All I could feel in this moment was anger. We'd been together for about a year. And he had known from the beginning that when I graduated, that summer, I would be eighteen, and I would be moving. Not getting married. Not loosing my independence. Not to anyone. I would be moving. Me and a car full of my things, down the coast to Hollywood, California. It had been my dream, since I understood what acting was. And I had made this clear to him on more than one occasion. I was meant for bigger things than La Push and Forks. I was going to become somebody. Somebody important. And she wasn't going to let some high school boyfriend keep her from that, from her life.

"This isn't fair," I said to him point blank. He shouldn't be asking me to make this choice. To stay here with him. Or get to follow my dream? The only thing I'd ever wanted since I could remember? I had never been the kind of girl to get all tangled up in romance. I had never once as a child, or a teen fantasized about my perfect boyfriend, or my future kids, or even a wedding. In fact, until I met Embry, I would have proudly proclaimed that a wedding was out of the question. I didn't want what my parents had. My mom was a small woman, who usually quietly lived under my dad's thumb. She had to explode to get anything she wanted. I didn't want to be trapped. Especially not here.

His smile faltered as he rose to his feet again, towering over me impressively before taking the bag off of my shoulder and leading me to the bed. "I love you," he said, the pain at my not immediately launching myself into his arms and screaming yes, evident on his face. But I could only find so much sympathy or him. He had ambushed me, with something he had known I didn't want. And I was supposed to feel bad?

But somehow I did. I knew if this was any other world, or if this was happening later, after I gave Hollywood a shot, I would've done exactly what he wanted. I would have said yes without thinking twice. But I was no Emily. I didn't see a future in staying here, getting married, cooking for a pack, and making babies. That was too small of a role for me. "I love you too," I said, not realizing that I was crying until my voice cracked.

"Then marry me," he practically pleaded. As if he didn't see anything wrong with this request as if dooming me to be his partner in his small life should be some kind of honor. And anger flashed through me.

"No," I said forcefully, raising to my feet and backing away from him, towards my dresser, towards my bags. "I can't believe you would even ask me. You knew this was going to happen. You knew this was coming. You knew I was leaving, practically since the moment you met me. You always said that it didn't matter. That I could do what I wanted. And this is what I want. I want out of this town. I want out of this house. I don't want to be trapped here, with you, being small for the rest of my life." Her voice rose as she spoke until she was yelling the last of it.

"You could still…" Embry started. But I didn't want to hear anymore. I didn't see anyway that I could run off to Hollywood if I was engaged. And I just didn't believe that he could join me and simply be supportive. I'd never seen that happen in my life. Someone simply support you because it was the right choice to make. I wasn't willing to risk letting him make me into the perfect little wolf bride somewhere else. I could still be small in the center of Hollywood if I was tied down. And I was sick of being small and unimportant. I didn't want to feel small town anymore. I wanted to feel like a big city girl. I wanted to feel like someone with class that was well traveled. I wanted to feel like I was so much more than I was. And I had it in my head that only Hollywood and an acting career could make me that. It would make me rich, make me a household name. When everyone knew who I was, I was bound to be important.

I squared my shoulders. I was not going to let my leaving Embry affect me. It was not going to change my plans. Or my opinions. Even if saying good-bye hurt like hell. I was still saying good-bye. And I was still going to have a hell of a time living my life. Hundreds of miles away, without him and his imprinting chains. "I'm sorry Em," I said, my tone detached, my eyes looking at him, but not seeing him. As if he were already a memory. Part of my past. In a few hours this whole god forsaken place would be my past. And I'd be on the beginning of an amazing adventure. Which was just as it should be, this time of the year, after graduation. I grabbed my last bag and threw it over my shoulder and began bounding down the stairs. "Lock the door on your way out," I called over my shoulder before closing the door behind me. The hollow thud, echoed the sound that my heart was making inside my chest. But I ignored it. Time could heal all wounds. And eventually I'd forget all about Embry Call.

I threw the duffle bag in the backseat and got in the front. It was no time before I was on the road. Tearing through the greenery of town for the final time, leaving my hometown of Forks.

It wasn't until I passed the "Now leaving Forks" sign and heard the tortured, heartbroken howl let out into the night air that I broke down and sobbed.

**A/N: I know the first chapters a little short, but I hope you enjoyed it nonetheless. And I promise that future chapters will be longer. ANd please review...I'd love to know anything you thought, good or bad. :)**


	2. She's Really Gone

I sat on her bed and stared at the ring. The ring that held all my hopes and dreams. All my love. A ring that should be resting on her finger now. This ring should be with her. A quiet reminder, that no matter the distance, I still loved her, would still do anything for her. But instead, it stayed with me. It became useless in my hands. Just reminded me of how I had failed, how I had lost her. How I somehow had not been good enough for her. She wanted something bigger. Something better. I cockily wanted to think that she would never find anything better, that everything had to pale in comparison to the imprint. But then again, I had also stupidly thought she'd say yes. That was how it was supposed to be. She was supposed to say yes.

I closed my eyes and pretended to know what that might feel like. In my minds eyes, she had had tears in her eyes, not anger. She had said yes and leaped into my arms. I had held her as tightly as I could without hurting her. I felt like I was on top of the world as she sat on my knee and kissed me. I slid the ring on her finger. She stared at it in astonishment for a moment, like it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen, the best gift she'd ever been given. And then I helped her load up her car. I kissed her again, tears streaming down both our faces. I told her to travel safe, to call me when she got there. I teased her about remembering me. She teased me about forgetting. Then I held her door open and watched her go. I didn't want to ruin her dream. I had just thought that my presence, knowing she had someone who cared, might enhance it.

She was gone.

I stared at the ring some more. I didn't know what to do. Other than stare and think about what could have been. How close I was to being the happiest I'd ever been. And how, now, I was the most miserable I had ever been.

She was gone.

I closed the black box, unable to torture myself with pretend stories of happiness any longer. I got lost staring at the black velvet, falling into the abyss. I couldn't take the pain anymore.

She was gone.

I looked around her room. It looked almost the same. She hadn't bothered to take much with her. That piqued my hope that she might return soon. Then I noticed she hadn't taken the picture of the two of us on her nightstand with her. And judging from her words, it wasn't something she wanted.

She was gone.

I stood from the bed and took my shirt off. Began to take my pants off. I would just jump out the window and phase. I would lose this pain to the wolf. I would escape. But I needed to lock the door behind me.

She was gone.

I wiped the tears from my cheeks, looking at the box I had in my hand. I didn't want it any more. I didn't want the reminder of how I had been measured and I had been found lacking, by the one person that I thought could never find me lacking. Could find fault, could be angry with, sure. But to find lacking? And it wasn't mine anyway. I wanted her to have it. It was for her, whenever she wanted it. Whenever she was ready. I set it down on her night stand.

Maybe she'd come back.

I crept down the stairs of the silent house and out her front door. I wandered aimlessly towards the forest, a man heavy with loss and his sudden lack of direction. What was I supposed to do without her, if she didn't come back?

I got lost from the view of her house, inside the tree line and I finished stripping, attaching the clothes to my leg before bursting almost instantly into a wolf.

_You did it? You actually did it? _Paul's voice met me. _You didn't wuss out. Right on._ I could tell he was trying hard to be supportive. He thought proposing was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard of. In fact he had been pretty bummed for me from the minute that I imprinted. You see, Paul and I used to play the field together, getting all the girls we possibly could. He dreaded imprinting. I had secretly looked forward to it. A way to stop playing all those games. And Paul had been nothing but unsupportive of how "whipped" I was every step of the way. _Have not,_ he whined. I knew he tried, like now, but it just felt hollow, kind of like when you support someone, even when you hate their decision.

_Give the boy a prize,_ Leah's voice chimed in to my last thought. I didn't need her to tell me I was right bout that. I knew I was right bout how Paul felt. But right now, I couldn't help but feel bitter that she was here. _Happy to see me as always, I see,_ she responded in that annoying, bitter, I'm Leah and the whole world has put me through hell, so now you have to pay tone. I think it's the only tone she has.

_How'd it go?_ Paul finally asked, again in that hollow way. And that's when it all crashed back down on me. For a few moments there, I had actually been distracted from it by having to share my mind with them. But now the pain was again so intense, that I actually let out an animalistic whimper, as I lay down on the grassy floor of the forest, not even feeling the desire to move. _Whoa,_ Paul said, obviously not expecting that kind of emotion. And then I couldn't help but relive the moment as I shared it with the two of them. The surprise, the pain, the rejection. The only thought I was capable of now was _She's gone._

I felt Paul's concern. But it was covered up with his excitement at the fact that he had his wingman back. Selfish bastard. _I resent that,_ but he didn't sound angry, he practically said it in a singsong at me. I couldn't wait until he imprinted and got a quick lesson in not being selfish. _Not cool. I wouldn't wish that on my worst fucking enemy. Like Leah here…_

I could feel her anger, and then I heard something collide with a tree. Probably Paul. _Bitter bitch._ Definitely Paul. Way to go Leah.

_Thanks, _she said smugly. There seemed to be a hesitance in her next words. _I'm sorry._ She did after all know how I felt. A parade of images of her and Sam and then Emily and Sam paraded through her head. And I suddenly felt guilty for all the times that I had been mean or sarcastic to her. That I had treated her like she was just some bitter pathetic girl, who couldn't get over it. I was also now someone who was pathetic and couldn't get over it. _Thanks, _she said again, this time her tone was gentler, seemed to hold less malice. I didn't mind this tone.

And then our minds settled into what I would call general quiet. We were all left with our own thoughts without interruption. Even when we saw snippets of each other's. But I could tell that my thoughts were causing them pain. My pain was hurting them.

Then I felt more minds join the pack mind, to take over patrol shifts, wondering at the pain they felt. But I didn't want to explain again. Besides that meant it had been hours. It had already been night when she left, but now it had to be the middle of the night. I wanted to make sure that she was okay. That she was going to pull over for the night. That she wouldn't be dangerous and drive tired. I rose to my feet with great effort before phasing back. The pain lanced through me again.

She was really gone.

She hadn't said yes, she had said that I wasn't enough. She wanted better things than I could ever dream of giving her. All I'd had was a ring. She wanted a life.

I got home and picked up my phone, dialing the familiar number. It rang and rang and rang. Until…voicemail. "Hey, you've reached Olivia. Probably hanging out with someone cooler than you. Leave a message."

That used to make me smile. I used to think it was kind of funny, so very Olivia. But now it was like, even her phone was mocking my pain.

"Hey, baby," I spoke, trying to keep my voice from cracking. We weren't broken up just because she'd said no to the proposal, I reminded myself. But I knew it was a lie I told myself to feel better. She had left me. I was alone, tied to something that was never coming back. She was gone. And I was empty. "I was just calling to make sure you were okay, on the highway by yourself." The thought made me shiver slightly. Anything could happen to pretty girls traveling alone at night. "Hope you pulled over for the night. Call me when you get this." I glanced at the clock. The green glowing numbers read 1:15 am. I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear from her tonight or tomorrow now. Tonight meant she was still on the road, which would have me concerned, but waiting until tomorrow would put me in worry overload.

I fell asleep with my cell phone in my hand, waiting for her call.

I woke up the next morning to my phone ringing. My eyes flicked to the clock on my bedside table. It was 11 am. Sure did take her long enough to call. But I tried to keep the bitterness away as I prepared to answer what I hoped was her call. But instead, I saw JAKE on the caller ID. I groaned. I couldn't exactly handle any kind of emergency right now. And I wasn't sure I could handle the sympathy either. Especially not from someone who had their weird freaky hybrid imprint just miles away.

"What?" I demanded when I answered the phone.

"I'm sorry man," were his first words. Great, we were going the sympathy route. The pity in his tone almost made me wish for an emergency. Of just about any kind. Just so that I didn't have to face this conversation, didn't have to really admit that she was really gone. If we didn't talk like this, I could pretend inside my own head at least that she was coming back. "I heard from Leah."

I snorted at this. Great, so Leah was thrilled that someone else was as miserable as she was and just couldn't stop from spreading it around. She just couldn't keep from shouting my unhappiness from the rooftops. At least someone was getting some good fortune out of my heartbreak and disaster. I was good for something. I could give miss cold and bitter a morale boost. Just awesome.

"Don't be like that," Jake said then. "She's not so bad. And she's actually really worried about you." He got silent for a moment. "Remember, if anyone can relate she can…Maybe you should talk to her…"

"Seriously?" I demanded into the phone trying to keep my outrage in check. I should talk to Leah? About my pain? I should talk to the girl that made sport out of poking fun at all of our pain? I hated to admit to myself that it sounded almost crazy enough to work. "The only person I need to talk to right now is Olivia," I finished.

Jake didn't bring up Leah again. But he couldn't seem to stray from opening my wounds. "She left, Embry," he said as casually as he could, but it didn't help, "She turned you down. And she left town. She said good-bye." I knew all of this. Why did he have to point it out? Why did he have to leave me hopeless? "She may not be planning to talk to you." Of course he had to point out the obvious. What I knew deep down in my heart, but hadn't quite let sink in to my brain yet.

"I know, but I can't just give up," I said to him. I couldn't. She was my world. My everything. My reason for being. My purpose for existing. I couldn't just give up on her. Not without trying everything I could. I should try calling again. "Look, man, I gotta go." And before he could respond I hung up.

I dialed Olivia's number.

"Hey sweetheart. It's me again. Hoping you're okay. Please call me back. Just let me know you're alive. I'm just worried about you. I need to know you're okay."

"It's me again. I'm starting to get really worried. It's almost been a whole day. Still no word. Don't avoid me, okay? Please. Just call back."

"This is borderline rude. You can't just leave people hanging on a string. If I don't hear from you soon I'm gonna start calling hospitals or something. Please don't be in the hospital. I would never forgive myself. Just…just call…okay?"

"Call, text, send up a flare. You gotta do something. It's been days now. I'm going out of my mind with worry. I love you so much. You're my everything. I couldn't deal if something happened to you."

"This is the last call. Seriously. The last call. I guess you're not calling back. I'm going to assume you're safe. Because you're parents aren't upset. I ran by the house the other day on patrol. So at least I know you aren't dead. They'd be distraught if you were dead." I took a deep breath. "I wish you'd call back though. We should talk. We should talk the whole thing through. I miss you. I know you miss me too. Even if you're too proud to admit it. Just call please. Our last talk doesn't have to be our last talk. Shouldn't be our last talk. But like I said, this is the last call. Nothing after this. I'll take your hint and leave you alone, even though it kills me. I love you. Bye."

I threw my phone down on the bed as I sat at the end of my bed, with my head in my hands, tears running down my face. I already knew she wasn't calling back. She never would. She would rather let us just dissolve into nothing than back down. Especially not when she thought she was winning some silent battle that I didn't even know I was fighting until it was too late. This is how it would really end. Like this. Her in Hollywood…I hoped. And me, here, in my bedroom, depressed, tear streaked face.

I growled and let the fury at my situation take over as I rose to my feet, knocking everything off my dresser before upending my night stand. I was having a meltdown. I let the despair take over as the empty aching feeling inside my chest got stronger. As I finally face the truth.

She was really and truly, in every way, gone.

**AN: I really enjoyed the reviews that I got. :) And I'm hoping that you like this chapter enough to leave another one, lol. And I appreciate all the silent readers too, for giving this lttle story of mine a look. Once agian, enjoy. :)**


	3. And Then I Pretended

I smiled at Diane, the real estate agent. I glanced around the studio apartment again, taking in the dingy, smoke stained walls, the stained hardwood floors, and it smelled faintly like mildew. Mildew was almost an epidemic in the bathroom. Okay, so The Ritz it was not. But it would have to do. It was the only thing that I could afford, on my high school savings, in the high priced city of Los Angeles. I was no riddled with options, not until I started to at least make more money. "I'll take it," I said to her.

"Really?" Her tone seemed almost shocked. Maybe because I don't look like the kind of girl to live like this. Or like the kind of girl that settles. But right now, I had to be that kind of girl. I didn't have the luxury to be picky. I gave her an earnest nod and she said, "Well, okay, then," as she began to pull all of the paperwork out for me to sign. She set it on the counter that protruded by the door to serve as a very small divider between the kitchen and the rest of the place. She spent the next hour or so explaining to me the terms of the contract and showing me all of the places that I needed to sign. And then I was the proud owner of my own place. A grotesque hole in the wall, granted, but it was mine. No more hotel living for me.

As I stood, feeling a little proud in the middle of my tiny place, I really surveyed the damage, really let it sink in. The stains. The layer of dirt that seemed to cover most of the floor, the less than pristine state of the kitchen, the milky film on the windows. And it was then that I sighed, realization dawning on me. I had my work cut out for me. I needed to get some cleaning supplies and take care of this place from top to bottom. I began to compile a mental list of the things that I would need as I dug through my purse for pen and paper to write it all down on. I also needed some things to start out in this place. Bleach, Lysol, Pinesol, Windex, a mop, a broom, toilet bowl cleaner, toilet paper, towels, napkins, and the list went on much like that. Now to just find some sort of discount store to try and buy everything from.

After three hours worth of getting lost in the hills, and trying to find my way out of town, in search of bargain shopping, I was finally making my last trip up the stairs with my finds. It had been four trips. And three flights of stairs. To say I was feeling a little tired was an understatement, but there was no time for any of that. I had to keep going. I had to get this place clean. It needed to be livable. And then I needed to go in search of some sort of bed. It might be the only thing in my new apartment tonight, but it was also the most important. I needed somewhere to sleep after all.

I began to unload everything, setting aside the bucket to mix the cleaning chemicals in and the cleaning products that I would need first. And then I let out a small groan, realizing what a huge project this was going to be.

As I scrubbed the floor, the counters, the windows, I tried to ignore the feeling of loneliness that was setting in. I was beginning to miss the familiarity and no fuss that home provided. And I was missing the friends that I had there. I had such a huge social circle. And now I was completely alone. And to be honest, as I realized that there was no one in this city that cared about me, I had never felt more insignificant. More like a number in a crowd. I had never craved home, friends, or Embry's presence more in my life. For a moment I felt lost, completely lost, grabbing my cell phone and scrolling through the names, to the E's, until I landed on Embry's name. I stared at it. He would love to hear from me, I knew it. But to call him. To call him would be like admitting that I couldn't do this. That I couldn't make it on my own. That I needed him. And most importantly of all, if I called Embry, he would think that I was reconsidering my answer to his last question and I wasn't. I waivered. To call or not to call.

And then a voice broke through my haze. I had left my door open to help air out the place that now smelled something akin to a hospital with all of the cleansers permeating it. "Hey, looking pretty good in here."

My head snapped up at the unexpected visitor and I set my phone down, having been saved from my own insecurities by this stranger. As much as I wanted to smile and gladly accept any kind of kindness that was being handed to me, I couldn't. I felt wary. This was a big city after all. Sure, she was one of the tiniest girls I had ever seen, had to barely be five foot, but she could still be some kind of weirdo.

She laughed softly, so my facial expression must have expressed my potential concern. "I'm not a stalker or anything," she said in a tone that held an unspoken 'I promise' in it, she continued, "I live across the hall. I saw you with Diane, signing the lease. So when the door was open, I thought I'd say hi, make sure everything was okay."

And then I did grin. She was my neighbor. And she was trying to be just that, a good neighbor, checking in when she thought something might be amiss. "Yeah, I've been at it all day, I'm just about done," I allowed myself to survey the space for the first time. It wasn't sparkling, but this place would never sparkle, but it was now inhabitable. Some people might have called cleaning it at all an act in futility, but I considered it an act in not catching hepatitis.

"It shows," she complimented before holding her hand out to me as I slowly approached her, wiping sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. "I'm Amber," she introduced. I slipped my sweat free hand into hers, giving it a quick, weak shake before introducing myself. "I'm Olivia."

"So how's moving in coming?" Amber asked me, "Need any help with anything?"

I raised an eyebrow at her. Was this just a polite offer, or a sincere one. "Lay it on me," was her response, obviously realizing whatever I was hesitant to ask for was probably pretty big.

"Well, I need a bed still," I answered her, "Like a mattress at the very least."

"And you were planning on lugging that up all those flights of stairs all by yourself?" She rolled her eyes at me. "I know a place we can go, why don't you get cleaned up and come over to my place…" I nodded and answered her to the affirmative. "Can you get the door on your way out," I called to her as she left and I made my way to the bathroom.

We were sitting in my car, driving back from the store when she asked. "So where are you from?"

"Forks, Washington," I answered her, and continued, only half joking, "A town so small it's not even on the map. One of those everybody knows each other kinds of deals."

"Sounds nice," Amber said, almost wistfully, like she'd spent her whole life being lost in a crowd.

"Are you from here?" I asked her curiously. She shook her head.

"No way," she commented as if the very idea of being from here disgusted her. Something that made me laugh. I would give anything to be from somewhere like this. To not be from tiny little Forks, or even tinier La Push. All I saw when I looked at the land around me was luxuriousness, a dream come true. I couldn't imagine ever flouting. I was sure even now that I could never hate it here. It was almost like if this were a princess story, then Los Angeles was my magical kingdom.

"Where are you from then?" I asked, seriously wondering exactly where was better than here.

"San Francisco," she answered, her tone almost reverent. Okay, so this girl apparently loved home. I tried to have that feeling for a moment. I tried to feel reverent and loving of my home, like I worshipped it, like I couldn't imagine anything better. But I couldn't. When I thought of home, I thought of fighting parents, of disappointments, of feeling trapped and stunted, of the desire to flee. Sure I missed some of the people from home. But I didn't miss home. I didn't miss the place. Or the cloud cover. Or the rain. I stuck my hand out of my rolled down window for a moment, relishing the feeling of the warm air flowing past it. "Do you miss it?" she asked me, having realized my flippant attitude towards home.

I didn't want to come across as cruel or callous, but the desire to scream out no at the top of my lungs was strong. "Why don't you ask me in a few weeks," I said instead, "Once I've had the chance. I only left five days ago. And the only thing I've missed so far is not having a space to really call my own. Been living in hotel rooms."

"Fair enough," she said, but I could tell she was a little disturbed by my disconnect.

"Do you miss home?" I asked her.

She nodded almost like a bobble head, her eyes going wide, as she spoke, "Yes!" as if it caused her actual distress, making me laugh.

"It can't be that bad being away," I said trialing off. My insecurities kicking up again. What if I couldn't do this on my own? What if I ended up feeling like Amber? Could I make this work for my dream? Or would I have to let it all go, and return to Forks, my tail between my legs, accepting my failure, accepting that I was small and unimportant, that no one would remember who I was.

"I'm really close to my family," she explained. "My parents. My brothers and sisters. I'm one of seven. I'm the oldest of the children, so I'm the first to leave the nest. And I wouldn't have left San Francisco probably if it weren't for school. I'm a medical student at UCLA. I love them and I miss them so much. I talk to someone from my family everyday. I need to be connected to them in some way like I need air." She laughed a little. "That's a little lame. But I'm okay with it."

Now it was my turn to sound wistful. "That must be nice."

She took my town to mean that it was time for a change in subject, and I was grateful, but only for a moment. "So is there anyone from back home that you really miss?" I immediately thought of Embry's smiling face. I must have smiled a little without even realizing it. "A boy, I'm guessing…" she trailed off. In that moment, I really hated the hold that Embry, even now, when he was supposed to simply be part of my past, part of something that I used to belong to, affected me. I was supposed to move beyond my whole existence up until now the moment I pulled away from my house. But Embry. He always seemed to buoy to the surface somehow. I blamed it on all the phone calls he made to me. And the way he sounded in them: hurt, lost, like he actually really cared. It was like since he couldn't let go, I couldn't let go. And I blamed him completely for ruining my new life with his presence.

I nodded finally. "There was a guy," I said, forcing the smile from my face and from my voice, saying the words with measured, practiced, indifference. "Embry. He proposed before I left."

Amber raised an eyebrow at my tone. "Congratulations…?" she said skeptically.

I shook my head in response. "No. I turned him down and left. I wanted to leave. He wanted me to stay."

Amber sat in complete silence for a moment before finally saying. "Sometimes you don't know what you want, or where you belong until you've experienced other things."

I wasn't sure whether to agree or be angry, so I answered simply with, "This is something I had to do for me."

Amber nodded her head and said again. "Fair enough." But she gave me this smile. A knowing smile. Like she knew something I didn't. Whether from age, experience, or clairvoyance, I wasn't sure. But I had this feeling that whatever she thought she knew, she really did know. And I wanted to ask what she knew that I didn't. But I didn't have the chance. We were at the mattress store.

I sagged against the wall when we reached the top of the third set of stairs with the twin mattress. I just stayed there perfectly still for a moment, glad that the heavy lifting was mostly done now. From here to my apartment we could just simply slide the thing. "Having someone with muscles would've come in handy," I said, laughing softly.

"From the sounds of it, you could have had someone with muscles," she teased me back and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. This was exactly why I didn't want Embry or anyone else from home involved in this. This was my moment. I wanted to know that I could do things like carry a mattress up to the fourth floor of an apartment building. And because like I said, the past was my past, where it would stay. This was my present.

"Alright, let's get going; we're so close," I said, gesturing to my door and we began to push the mattress along the floor.

When we finally got it in and positioned in the corner that I would allow to be bedroom, we both collapsed on it, exhausted. "Well that was fun," Amber said, laughing, "Remind me never to offer help to a new neighbor again." Her tone was good natured and teasing.

And then I groaned loudly, realizing something. I had forgotten to get food in all my running around and cleaning and it was now well past dark. "Feeling a bit more hospitable?" I asked.

"Depends," she answered, not beating around the bush.

"I have no food," I answered.

"Not a problem. I was planning on making tacos for dinner, and I'm hungry, so I think I'm ready to do that. You're more than welcome to come over. There will be plenty," she offered.

I smiled. Yep. I had made my first official Los Angeles friend, in my neighbor, Amber.

Hours later, fed, slightly tipsy, and a few trips to the car later, I laid on my bed, trying to sleep. But I couldn't. Something wasn't quite right. I couldn't put my finger on what until a shiver ran down my spine. I was cold despite the fact that it was eighty degrees outside. Because I was used to sleeping wrapped securely in Embry's arms. It had been months since I had slept alone. Embry always with me, holding me close, whispering in my ear. As exhausted as I was, I knew I wasn't going to be able to sleep without the extra heat. And I knew I couldn't drive, so I stumbled out of my apartment and began to walk to the stairs and down the street to the nearby drug store. They had to have little space heaters, right?

And they did. I tried to ignore the strange looks I got as I stood at the cash register. These people probably thought I was trying to kill myself by dehydration or something. And it's not exactly like I could blush, smile sheepishly and say I was missing my werewolf boyfriend's abnormal body heat. So I took their stares in stride. And when the bag slammed into my leg for the five millionth time, which was sure to leave a bruise if the other times hadn't, I cursed Embry's name.

When I finally arrived home, I ripped the offending piece of equipment out of the box and set it on the floor beside my bed, plugging it in. I flipped it to it's highest setting and then settled into bed letting my eyes drift closed. Everything felt right as the warmth invaded me, surrounded me. I closed my eyes again and this time, I let myself go. I let myself really just miss him without excuse or apology, or without telling myself how weak and pathetic I was. The loss seemed to invade every part of my being. I felt weak. I felt hollow. I felt like I was missing part of myself, being without him. And I cried.

Then I remembered. I remembered the first night that we spent together. I had been drunk, which wasn't necessarily a rare occasion.

_**I swayed slightly as I walked over to where he was sitting on the edge of my bed, not really remembering at all how we had gotten here. To my house. To this state. But I had known Embry for weeks now. He occupied all of my thoughts, and truthfully, most of my time. He seemed to always want me around. He seemed to never be sick of me. But aside from a few chaste kisses, nothing had happened. I had never really been a good girl and this waiting was driving me crazy. Pins and needles, does he actually like me, kinds of crazy.**_

_**I leaned down and captured his lips with mine as I moved myself down to straddle his lap and his arms immediately received me. They always immediately received me as if they were programmed to never say no. My lips moved away from his as I kissed across his jaw line and down his neck until I heard a pleased response. I raised my lips back to his ear and whispered, "Do you want me?"**_

_**He seemed to sputter for a moment, making me worried. Maybe he didn't want me. Maybe we were just good friends. I felt embarrassed until his deep husky voice replied. "More than you can imagine."**_

_**And that was all I needed to hear, I reached down and pulled my dress of over my head before my lips practically attacked his. For a time he played along. That is until my hands moved down to his pants and then he stopped, grabbing my hands. "Not tonight," he whispered.**_

"_**Why not?" I could hear the pout in my voice. I had never felt more rejected. **_

"_**Because I want this to be more than this," he said, gesturing between my drunken figure and his sober one. I must have looked confused because he continued to explain, taking a long time to choose his first words. He seemed settle on appropriate ones and began to talk. "I really care about you, Olivia. And I want you and I deciding to go to that next level to be a decision based on more than vodka. I don't want it to just be a drunken hook up."**_

_**And it was then that I vowed to stay sober whenever I was around Embry, because I didn't want to miss my opportunity more than once. But it still felt like rejection. It still stung.**_

"_**Will you stay?" I asked him, my voice wavering slightly.**_

_**He smiled so brightly you would've thought I'd given him such an amazing gift. "Of course," he answered without hesitation. He curled up next to me, under the covers, pulling my body so close to his, I could feel every muscle he had. Then he leaned down and kissed behind my ear. I let out an embarrassing moan, feeling his hands on my stomach and his lips on my skin. "You are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen," he whispered in my ear.**_

_**I smiled. Even then, when we barely knew each other, he knew exactly what to say to make me feel better, to melt the ice.**_

And then I acted. I grabbed my cell phone from the counter and crawled back into bed, scrolling through the names. I landed on Embry's. It had been five days since we last talked. But he deserved to know I was okay. So I sent him a text message.

**Made it here safe. Set everything up in my place today. More work to do tomorrow. Made friends with Amber across the hall. Going to bed.**

Not moments later I received back a message.

**Congratulations! I knew you could do it. Stay strong. Sleep well pretty girl.**

I grinned at the screen. I set it back down and let my eyes drift closed.

And then I pretended. I pretended I felt Embry's arms around me now, his chest pressed against my back. I pretended I could feel every muscle he had against me, like he was holding me so tight. And I pretended that he whispered in my ear, you can do this, don't ever doubt yourself. And he whispered it in such a definitive manner that I couldn't do anything other than believe him.

And then I cried silently at the faith that he had in me, wishing desperately that he was here to tell me himself. And feeling ashamed that one small thing, like a boy, could make my whole house of cards come tumbling down. Ashamed that it seemed without him, I didn't have this much faith in myself.


End file.
